


Addicted

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Codependency, Dark, Demon Blood Addict Sam, Demon Blood Addiction, Demon Dean Winchester, Gen, M/M, Sam On Demon Blood, Season/Series 10, ten kinds of fucked up and ten kinds of awesome, this is exactly what you think it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2468114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam fully intends to cure Dean of his demonic state and help him become human again, but his body craves for a taste of Dean's blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Addicted

_"What I’m gonna do to you Sammy… well that ain’t gonna be mercy either."_

Sam wakes up in the middle of the night for no reason, at least so he thinks. He sits up straight in bed, listening for the sound of footsteps near his door or banging downstairs, anything that might indicate Dean had gotten out of his chains in the dungeon. But he hears nothing. That's a good sign, right?

Sam throws the covers off of his legs and feet and rotates his body. His feet hit the floor with a pat and he scrubs his hand over his face. He's awake now he might as well go make sure Dean hasn't escaped. He stands to his feet and walks over to the light-switch, flicking on the light and blinking at the brightness. Everything suddenly swirls in front of him and he latches onto the doorknob with his hand, steadying himself until the wave of dizziness clears. Huh, that's strange, he's probably just tired. Sam is half-way out the door when he turns around and grabs Ruby's knife off of his nightstand. He twirls it around in his hand, contemplating; the metal glints in the light. He doesn't want to have to bring it with him, but it's probably a bad idea to confront his brother aka the new Cain/knight of hell/demon-who-wants-to-eat-him-alive without some kind of defense. He takes the knife and slips out the door and down the hallway, the padding of his feet echoing in the silence.

He pauses outside the door to the dungeon, clenching and unclenching his fist around the hilt of the knife. He closes his eyes, takes in a deep, heavy breath and pushes open the door. The metal scrapes together as the door slides open letting out a low squeal. Sam slams his hand down on the light switch and the dull bulbs crossed on the ceiling flicker to life directly over Dean. He's sitting in the middle of the devil's trap with an arrogant smirk on his face, handcuffed hands clasped in his lap.

"Hey there, Sammy. Miss me?" Dean asks.

Sam swallows, jaw tightening, "Not particularly."

Dean places his hand over his heart, chains jingling when he moves, "Awww I'm offended. 'Cause I sure as hell missed you."

Sam chooses to ignore that, crossing the cement floor a few steps closer to Dean.

"You ready for me to cure you?"

Dean chuckles darkly, eyes flashing black then back to green.

"Cure me? Nah, I haven't had any fun with you yet!"

Sam takes a step backwards. He pulls out Ruby's knife and watches it twinkle in the light.

"I could force you."

Dean raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, "I'd like to see you try."

Sam bites the inside of his cheek and paces across the room, watching Dean. He knows that the real Dean, the human part still left deep down inside wants Sam to cure him. Dean would never want to be _this_ , he would rather die. But Sam won't let him die, not if he can cure him first.

Dean doesn't say anything. He just watches Sam with a smug grin on his face. Sam keeps pacing, back and forth; eight steps, turn, eight steps, turn. His mind is clear and the room is silent except for their unmatched breathing. His vision starts to blur suddenly and Sam slams his eyes shut, shaking his head. He abruptly stops pacing, freezing in place. His heart thuds in his chest, pulse increasing with every passing second. It's so loud he can hear the rhythmic pounding in his ears and it's making his head ache. He feels hot, like his blood is boiling underneath his skin; trying to burn him from the inside out. He knows this feeling, it's been a long time but he knows what this is.

"You don't look too good, Sam," Dean jeers, taunting him. Sam shivers, not from the cold but from the blatant disregard for Sam's state. It's so unlike his brother that he feels sick.

"I'm fine," Sam grunts.

He staggers forward, catching his hand on the door frame and leaning against it for a few moments taking in a couple deep breaths. He has to get out of here, he has to get away from Dean before he does something... horribly stupid.

"Sure, whatever you say, Sammy," Dean says with a wink.

Sam leaves without another glance, slamming and locking the heavy dungeon doors behind him. He stumbles down the hallway and into the kitchen grabbing a glass off the shelf and getting some water from the tap. He drinks it all in one gulp and breathes heavily, hoping and praying that every feeling that just coursed through his veins was some result of dehydration and fatigue. He does feel better now that he is further away from Dean, but that feeling, that hunger in his veins still remains. Sam needs it, craves it, almost more so than he did when he was addicted.

No, no, _fuck no_ , this can't be happening. 

He refills his glass and takes another gulp. He's probably just tired, that's it. He needs a good night's rest and then everything will be better.

Sam goes back to his room, locking and bolting his door then collapses onto his bed. He pulls the covers up around his shoulders and tries to ignore the pulsing of his veins.

Everything will be better tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how long this will be or how often I'll update but this is so much fun to write I'm definitely going to continue!
> 
> Let me know what you think!


End file.
